


I Will Give You The Rainbow

by LittleSixx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Love, Friendship/Love, Hogwarts Era, POV Blaise Zabini, Teen Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: Blaise Zabini gives Lavender Brown seven roses.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 23
Kudos: 38





	I Will Give You The Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Death by Quill challenge. It is no longer part of that collection.

Blaise Zabini had no family.

Why would his mother hire a nanny when she had an army of house-elves? She rarely brought men home; Blaise never even laid eyes on husbands four or five. With no options, the elves became his friends. At age nine, Blaise snuck into town and bought them all clothes. His mother was furious, but every elf stayed on. They upgraded the living quarters and negotiated a salary, but they did not want to leave ‘the little Zabini’ alone. 

It was the first time in Blaise’s life anyone cared enough to stay.

Oaky was the eldest elf, with a face like well-worn leather and white hair sprouting from his ears. He was the closest thing Blaise had to a parent. He bandaged every cut, taught Blaise to cook, and gave him the most important advice he ever received.

One day Blaise admitted, “I want to do magic like you, but Mamma says elf magic is different.”

“Your mother is wrong in this, as in many things,” Oaky replied with a soft smile. “Magic is magic, master Blaise, and not everyone needs a wand to channel it. You could do it right now if you wished.”

Blaise leapt out of his chair and pleaded, “Show me!”

Oaky chuckled. He looked around the room and Summoned a spoon from the dining room table. 

“One of the best parts of magic is taking something ordinary and transforming it into something beautiful.”

Oaky snapped his fingers and the metal spoon morphed into a rose; the handle rounded into a flower stem while the bowl transformed into a blossom. 

“Can you teach me to do that?”

Oaky nodded. He Summoned another spoon and presented it to Blaise, who accepted it with trembling fingers.

“I ... I’ve never done magic before.”

“You don’t _do_ magic, master Blaise, you _are_ magic. You feel magic the same way you feel the rhythm of a waltz. Your body is born knowing how to do this, you only need to teach yourself to control it. Take the spoon and feel what you wish to happen. Think about the flower as you hold the spoon between your fingers and say, _Rosa Mutatio_.”

Blaise’s hand shook as he enunciated, “Rosa Mutatio.” Immediately, something pricked the palm of his hand and he dropped the spoon onto the floor. “Ow!” 

But Oaky only smiled and showed Blaise his fully-formed flower.

“Apologies, master Blaise, I should have mentioned roses have thorns.”

* * *

First-year Slytherins and Gryffindors took both Transfiguration and Potions together. There were an odd number of students in each house, so one Gryffindor and one Slytherin had to partner up. Blaise, not knowing a single one of his Housemates well enough to ask, became the odd one out. He shrugged and made his way over to a girl with curly, dark blonde hair at a desk in the back of Potions. He didn’t mind being in the back as Professor Snape was prone to shout. 

“I’m Lavender Brown,” the girl said.

Blaise nodded and returned his attention to the lesson.

She leaned over so her chin was practically on his shoulder and asked, “Who are you?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“That’s a great name. Has anyone ever told you that’s a great name? Do you know Amara Zabini?”

“She’s my mother,” Blaise said, trying to keep his voice low.

Lavender Brown, however, did not share that concern.

“WOW!” she shouted. “Your mum’s famous!”

“If you two are finished gossiping,” Professor Snape sneered, “might I suggest you turn your attention to page twenty-three?”

Lavender squeaked out, “Yessir.”

“Five points from Gryffindor.”

Half the class groaned in unison.

The next day, Blaise sat with Lavender in Transfiguration. Once classes fell into a manageable routine, Professor McGonagall seemed far more accommodating of Lavender’s quirks. However, it was October before they began practicing actual magic.

“Today, you will learn to Transfigure a feather into a flower,” McGonagall said. She placed one feather on her desk and asked, “Would anyone like to try in front of the class?”

Silence.

Even the Granger girl shrank further down into her seat. Blaise watched as Lavender made herself as small as possible and wondered why everyone was afraid of simple Transfiguration. For the first time in the school year, Blaise raised his hand.

“Ah, Mr. Zabini.” If McGonagall was surprised, she did not let it show. She pushed her glasses a bit further up on her nose and said, “Come up and show the class what you can do.”

Blaise stood up and smiled, relishing the attention. For once, he was not the one trying to make himself invisible. He stood behind the professor’s desk and reached for the feather.

“Now, take your wand—”

“I do not like to use my wand for this, professor.”

Professor McGonagall looked him over with a stern frown.

“What do you mean?”

“I have never tried it with a wand,” Blaise admitted. “I just sort of ...” He felt the feather transform into a stem beneath his fingers. “Do it.”

The entire class leaned forward to see the red rose in Blaise’s hand. A chorus of whispers floated toward the front of the room.

_“Did he do that without a wand?”_

_“Did he even say a spell?”_

_“That was so bloody cool!”_

“I used to use spells,” Blaise admitted, “but now I just think about what I need it to be and it happens.” He shrugged. “Did I do something wrong?”

Professor McGonagall smiled softly and said, “Mister Zabini, please gather your things and wait for me in the headmaster’s office. 

Blaise swallowed thickly, afraid he was about to be shipped back to Italy for insubordination. He walked to the back of the room and stuffed the Transfiguration textbook into his bag. He offered the red rose to Lavender, who accepted it with an uncharacteristically quiet,

“Thank you.”

“Pray for me.”

A half hour later, Professor McGonagall officially moved Blaise into the sixth-years’ Transfiguration class. It was fine, but he found himself missing his desk partner.

* * *

Lavender and Blaise were always partners.

It was an unspoken rule in their year; if Gryffindor and Slytherin had a class together then Blaise and Lavender shared a desk. He was a child of few words while Lavender had more than enough for both of them. Most days, Blaise never needed to do more than nod or shake his head. Laugh at her jokes, which were funny more often than they weren’t. If he was having a bad day, Lavender would sneak him a blueberry muffin from the Gryffindor table. 

Not to say Lavender didn’t have flaws. Her personality preceded her into a room. Blaise always felt her enthusiasm before he saw her. But the single most annoying thing was her crush on Professor Lockhart. Was he hot? Yes. Was he a complete dingbat? Also yes. Thank Merlin he didn’t have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lavender; she would have been insufferable.

She practically dragged Blaise to the Dueling Club. They partnered up and Blaise shrugged as Lavender pointed her wand at him. 

“Disarm only!” Lockhart shouted.

Blaise had no intention of disarming Lavender. She raised her wand on the proper count and shouted,

“Expelliarmus!” 

Blaise held up his hands, palms facing outward, and cast a Shield Charm just as Oaky taught him. Lavender’s spell rebounded and she flew backward then landed on the floor with a heavy thud. Blaise’s heart stopped for a moment before he ran to her and shouted for help.

He visited Lavender in the Hospital Wing the following day.

He pulled out a feather quill and Lavender watched as it transformed into an orange rose. He placed it on her bedside table and said,

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted. “We’re friends. Plus, you really swept me off my feet.”

Blaise laughed and that was the real power of Lavender Brown. She could find a way to make anyone laugh.

* * *

Dementors affected everyone differently, and they exacerbated Blaise’s loneliness. 

He was surrounded by people who didn’t seem to care enough. He had friends, of course. There was Lavender, and Parvati by association. He had Hannah Abbott, Draco, Theo, and Pansy. But they weren’t close enough to hold him and ask why he spent most of his time alone. They never asked why he was so content to be invisible. Blaise had never known anything else, and the Dementors never let those thoughts leave his head. 

Lavender saw him, though. She offered to host Blaise at her home over the Christmas holiday. 

“You should be around friends. Around people who make you happy!”

His mother would be in Greece, courting a rich man whose name Blaise never bothered to learn. He grabbed a spare quill from his bag and Transfigured it into a yellow rose. Lavender smiled like she expected it.

“I would love to come, if you will have me.”

* * *

Blaise realized he had a crush on Lavender during a Herbology lesson in fourth year.

It was one of his least-favourite subjects. As Professor Sprout’s lecture dragged on, he picked up a leaf that had fallen to the ground and Transfigured it into a rose with bright green petals. Blaise handed it to Lavender at the end of class and she asked,

“What’s this for?”

Blaise shrugged.

“For being my friend.”

Later, Blaise cornered Theo in the Common Room and admitted, “I think I like her.”

“Lavender Brown? Glad to see you finally caught on,” Theo quipped. “You’ve liked her for a long time, mate. You never give any of us roses, now, do you?”

“Because you are a bunch of tossers most of the time,” Blaise shot back. “Lavender makes me laugh and I like her family and ... and ... I think I like her.”

“Ask her out then.”

“I can’t.”

“What if she says no?”

“Have you looked in a mirror? Not even one of the Patil twins would turn you down if you asked.”

“If she said no, do you think we could still be friends?”

“You’ll have to ask to find out.”

Blaise shook his head.

“I can’t risk it. I _cannot_ lose her.”

* * *

Blaise changed seats in March of fifth year.

His heart jumped a bit when Lavender got too close. She’d lean her head on his shoulder and fall asleep when the Potions lesson was too dull. She made him blush, made him smile, and he could only wonder whether she liked him the way he liked her. As the year dragged on, Blaise began to notice parts of her he hadn’t considered before. 

Lavender’s tie always had a massive knot; she never cared to tie it properly. Her lips were a pale pink colour and he could smell the cherry in her lip gloss. Blaise constantly wondered whether it would taste the same. One day he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and allowed his fingers to linger just a moment too long. Lavender tilted her head to the side and Blaise pulled his hand away like it burned. He didn’t look at her for the remainder of class and bolted out the door the moment it ended.

He sat at Draco’s desk the next day, leaving Lavender to sit with Theo. He felt her glaring daggers into his back during the lesson. She cornered him in the hall but Blaise ignored her and sped out to the castle grounds. Lavender caught up to him by running down the massive staircase and pulling him to the side.

“Blaise!”

He turned to see tears streaming down her face. His heart sank; he never meant to hurt her.

“W-what did I do?” she asked. “Is it something I said? I promise I’ll stop insulting Malfoy’s hair if you just—”

“You did everything right but I cannot be around you right now.”

“Then what’s wrong?!” she shouted back. “I thought we were friends!”

Tears threatened to spill out from the corners of Blaise’s eyes. He gathered his courage and pressed a lingering kiss to Lavender’s cheek. When he pulled away, her eyes were wide with surprise. He gave her a wan smile and tightened his scarf.

“I don’t believe you like me the way I like you. Every time I look at you I think about snogging you and that is not fair to either one of us.”

“Maybe I could!” Lavender begged. “I don’t want to lose you over this; you are one of my best friends.”

“It will be easier if you just let me go.”

“But I don’t want you to go!” Lavender shouted. “I am asking you to stay!”

That hit Blaise like a punch to the face. The people he loved had always managed to leave him. How could he do the same to Lavender?

“Okay.” He pulled a feather quill from his bag and twirled it between his fingers. Blaise felt it transform into the familiar stem and presented Lavender with a bright blue rose. “I am sorry I made you cry.”

She accepted the rose and said, “Don’t do it again.”

* * *

Being Lavender’s friend in sixth year was almost impossible. She never shut up about Ron Weasley. Even though she knew how Blaise felt, she went on and on about how “dreamy” he was and how “amazing at Quidditch” and “what a great kisser.” Theo chastised Blaise for glaring at Weasley across the Great Hall.

“I could slip a Puking Pastille into his potatoes. He shovels it all into his face; he’d never notice.”

Blaise sighed. 

“I do not understand what he has that I don’t.”

“Secondhand clothes?” Draco offered. A weak insult, but it was nice to see him regaining his form. Lately he had been rather aloof.

Lavender greeted Ron with a sloppy, open-mouthed snog at breakfast the next morning. Everyone in the Great Hall groaned in disgust. Blaise threw his silverware onto the table and stormed off, holing up in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory. Blaise thought she was just as manipulative as his mother; snogging Weasley in front of him while simultaneously guilting him into maintaining their friendship. He said as much before they headed into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“If you think I’m so selfish, then why do you like me?” Lavender shot back.

The words tumbled right out of Blaise’s mouth.

“Because you always make me smile. I like you because you always find something positive in a world of shit and you do not care what people think of you. You will be as ridiculous and silly as you like. I love your family, how comfortable I feel in your home. Hell, your house feels more like home to me than my own. But I know that no matter what happens in life, you will always be a good person and I admire that.”

Lavender pulled him down by the tie and quickly kissed Blaise on the mouth. He melted, wrapped a hand around the back of Lavender’s neck and pulled her closer. Blaise held her against his chest and pulled back just far enough to press their foreheads together.

“Maybe one day we’ll be together the way you want.” Lavender’s breath was warm against his lips. “Just give me time, Blaise.”

He looked her in the eyes and promised, “I will give you all the time I have.” He pulled a quill from his bag and Transfigured it into a purple rose. “When you realize he does not truly care about you, remember that I am always here.”

“It’s lavender.” She smiled down at the rose. “How do you always manage to have a spare quill?”

“I always have one because I never know when I will owe you a rose,” Blaise admitted. “People like you deserve more than words.”

* * *

Lavender was buried in a cemetery at Godric's Hollow.

Blaise should have stayed, should have fought! He would have willingly died in her place. 

Parvati gave him the only thing Lavender had left: six roses perfectly preserved, lined up and framed. One red, one orange, one yellow, green, blue, and lavender. Blaise sobbed. Great, ugly tears streamed down his face as he wiped snot away with the sleeve of his robe.

“She loved you more than she let on,” Parvati admitted, tears streaming down her face. “I think she was scared. She liked Ron and she liked other boys, but you ... I think she hoped you would be her forever love.”

He stood at her grave a week after the funeral with a feather quill in his hand, hating himself more than ever. He took a deep, shaky breath before saying the words he never should have kept to himself.

“You were the best friend I could have wished for. You were a friend when I had none. You offered your home when I needed one. You gave me hope for a future when I never saw one for myself. A future that ...” He paused to wipe his eyes. “That we will never have and I am sorry for that.

“But you never were the sort to leave. You were loyal to your friends until the end, and I only wish I had been there to help you. To save you. I have nothing left to give the world, but you? You always had more to say and more to give. You always found something or someone to love even when it all felt so goddamn hopeless.

“You were my first friend and my first love. I will live my life trying to give people all the love you would have. Wherever you are now, I hope it is peaceful. I know you are still making people laugh.” Trembling breaths rocked through his chest so he could barely croak out, “I love you, Lavender Brown. You are the bravest person I know and part of my heart will always belong to you. ”

When her parents visited the following day, they found a single white rose atop the headstone.


End file.
